


Running Out Of Time

by SunflowerEater



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Character Death, Heavy Angst, M/M, Major Illness, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 10:00:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29080515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunflowerEater/pseuds/SunflowerEater
Summary: A buzzing bumblebee known as Miya Atsumu enters Kiyoomi Sakusa's life with a crash, he comes in through a death and leaves just the same.
Relationships: Akagi Michinari/Komori Motoya, Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Kudos: 3





	Running Out Of Time

**Author's Note:**

> Alternative Title: Miya Atsumu is the blonde girl

The ebony-haired individual's memory on how he met Miya Atsumu is unsurprisingly vivid, nearly every detail engraved in his mind as if a stranger had carved it out for him. It doesn't come as much of a shock for Sakusa, given the circumstances of their first encounter. A day he tries to bury deep in the guilt that manages to wash over him everytime any image resurfaces. 

The season was spring, the sakura trees blooming in pink glory as a handful of the petals were dragged away by the light breeze that passed by, the grass swayed in soft delight whilst clouds rested on the sky as rays of the sun basked the beings below it. If he squints enough, Sakusa could see faint traces of colorful kites being flown across the great expanse of the heavens, almost like a form of mockery directed by the gods towards him and his family. Dark eyes shift towards the direction where most of the people gathered, a brief sigh leaves his nostrils before he walks towards the small crowd which was present for one thing - the funeral of his cousin, Motoya Komori.

The funeral begins as the designated time arrives, a sutra leaves the lips of a priest and the bereaved incense is burned as the smoke wafts into the home. The aloof male is unfortunately far too aware of everything around him, and that fact does nothing but highten the rage that continues to blaze within his chest, the stark black suit he wore that day sticks to his skin far too much than how he'd prefer, the fabric restricts his movements and the tie is too tight around his neck, but even so, he can't find it within himself to do anything about the bothersome details his mind continues to point out. Most of the attendees eyes are downcast to the floor, not wanting to meet anyone's gaze in fear of the awkward and irking feeling that would soon enclose them in such a situation.

His cousin was acquainted with a multitude of people when he was still grinning and living life to its fullest, from his highschool classmates all up to the list of foreigners he met whenever he left Japan, whether for a business trip either of his parents had or a vacation. It's somewhat startling how little the crowd who attends the funeral is, but given how unexpected Komori's death was - it doesn't hold much of a significance to Sakusa if he begins to think about fact that most of them had probably not been informed about the male's passing. 

When the time to pay his respects to his aunt and uncle arrives, he finds it relatively hard to move from the spot he's taken in the far back of the guests. The irking feeling that guilt makes him feel as it scratches against his skin is the one thing that drives him to take multiple steps forward although matching their gazes is another hurdle in itself. With trembling fingers, he offers them a brief bow, saying his condolences and despite not having a sufficient amount of bravery to meet their gazes, he knows they're looking at him with pity consuming their eyes but he continues to not match their gaze as he tries to blink away the tears that threaten to spill from his eyes. 

He doesn't quite understand why he's the one being pitied when the bereaved is their son but he doesn't question them, doesn't even allow their names to slip from his lips before he begins to walk away, a multitude of swift strides takes him outside of the suffocating house as he quickly breathes in the air through his mouth, it's almost as if he's gasping for it. The brightness that spring brings is a painful contrast to the mourning people inside, and for a brief moment Sakusa wonders if the season is purposefully insulting him - but then he remembers, he isn't that special.

He knows the feeling of dread, that skin-deep feeling of fear streaming through him as a death-like anticipation nearly chokes him alive, it's the sensation that crawls its way up to his throat like bile at the mere thought of failure and it's the helplessness that settles in when he realizes that he can do nothing, and even if he does have options, they're limited; and neither of them are going to change the looming outcome he desperately wants to avoid with every ounce of his existence. 

Dread is Sakusa seeing the world in front of him blossom into life as people are filled with an unexplainable desire to live, something he hasn't felt in a span of time he's nearly afraid to recount, while he's stuck inside a process where everything is expected and nothing results in uncertainty taking over his being. Dread is when he realizes that the lenses to which he sees life through is shattered into pieces he can no longer piece together, and the meager probability that he'll remain stuck while others begin to move on - it's terrifying. 

"What was he to you?" 

A voice from behind him queries, he's unfamiliar with who it is but he doesn't quite bother with glancing to check, and neither does he respond even with hints of hesitation. Perhaps it's the fact that his answer would be laced with an essence of a lack of one, a void that would present no real reply at the end of a day. There's always been a hesitance that resounded within him whenever the topic of a conversation was a person who had already passed, it's the awkwardness that fills the silence as a tiny fragment of mourning and something eerily resembling guilt that eats him away. The living weren't supposed to dance with the dead, it's a belief he holds. 

Some may feel more comfortable talking about their deceased loved ones, chattering away at the silly things they used to do and reminisce on all the memories that were brought forth like a tidal wave that held the strength of an unfiltered storm. But Sakusa's stoic nature would never clear a way for that possibility, it's near impossible (he would humor himself oftentimes, but it's something he thinks about whenever the thought surfaces in the crevices of his mind during an eating silence), and perhaps that in itself was a curse more than a blessing, or was the application vice versa? 

The ebony-haired individual doesn't linger on the thought, lips pursed as he begins to think of an answer that could best suit the question. What was Komori to him? More so than anything, he was the closest thing that resembled family to the aloof male, even though they weren't direct relatives. The brunette would often visit whenever summer rolled in when they were still children, and despite the sun's scorching heat irritating him - Sakusa would find the mildest of comfort at the thought of his cousin arriving, crooked grin and all. 

"My cousin." 

There's a hum that leaves the stranger, out of obligation as a form of acknowledgement or of interest, Sakusa doesn't particularly know (and he doesn't care much either way), and he can hear traces of the man slightly moving from where he is and he doesn't take it as anything, eyes trained on the sky as the clouds drift almost to an extent of carelessness. There's a fragment inside of him that wishes for a death to be bestowed upon him, like a form of conscious brutality he inflicts on himself as therapy but he knows it's an idiotic idea, to wish for death because of a death; it's stupidly ironic and thinking about it makes his head ache. 

"I'm his boyfriend's friend." 

For a brief moment, his eyes widened as the hands he had stuffed inside his pockets stiffened, his mouth turning dry like the gods had decided to strip him away of any sort of relief that could've been brought to him. His shoulders freeze and breathing becomes slightly difficult, his orbs are no longer on the sky but trained on the ground. Brows furrowed and frown etched deeper into his skin until they appear as if they're carved into his being, Sakusa releases a reaction. 

"Oh."

He knew he wasn't the only one grieving his cousin's death, he knew better than to think of himself as anything but another piece in a puzzle. Some would call him pessimistic, that he lacked enthusiasm for the journey of life although he preferred to call himself a realist, a man that beared a completely natural assumption, that anything he'd do in his life would lead up to nothingness in the end. Out of everyone that could have changed the world, the ebony-haired male was not one of them. 

He had nearly forgotten Komori had a boyfriend, despite the brunette always bringing his lover up whenever he could into their conversations. A cheery individual who primarily lived in Hyogo, a year older than them, had moved to Tokyo as soon as he was finished with his third year in highschool to pursue his dream career as a doctor - he was contemplating what his name was, tone uncertain as he mumbled what he assumed it to be. 

"Akagi Michinari..?" 

"Yep." 

The stranger chirped, as he took several steps forward and stood beside him. Sakusa reckons it was the feeling of detachment from the world due to the loss that didn't make him shove away the person whilst wearing a revolted look, as if the thought of another being near him insulted his identity as a living entity. The stoic male didn't do much to observe the stranger, taking a mere brief glance at him through his peripheral vision and the only thing he can really differentiate through the considerably less accurate glimpse is the bright blonde hair the man sports - it had probably been dyed, he thought to himself before shifting his weight to his left foot. 

There's a silence that passes, although it isn't at all uncomfortable for him, the quietness and what it's like for the strange man that decided to join him in the depressing journey often referred to as mourning is questionable. Just as the wind blows again, light and feather-like against his skin, the pale-skinned male sighs out before beginning to turn on his heel, about to say his farewells. 

"What was he like?" 

Sakusa blinks, once and then twice, it comes up to a third time before a new sensation that was comparable to wanting to burst out in flames envelopes his being. Despite his hesitation in answering, the chewing ache that eats at his emotions and will, he manages to croak out, voice cracking but he doesn't find it in himself to care much. 

"He's a... He was a good person." 

Because Komori was, and would always be a good person, and if he had continued to live on and actually finish their third year in highschool together then Sakusa had no doubts that he would continue to attempt to make the world a better place, for both him and other people even if it would result in naught but pain on his end. Sakusa doesn't necessarily know what makes someone's name worthy so one could attach good to it, what a person had to do or had to achieve was beyond his comprehension but there was no doubt in his mind that his cousin was good. 

He never understood what it was to be good, but he knew that the brunette boy who always greeted him with a skip in his step and stayed at his house during summer vacation was the closest thing to it, if it even existed. 

It unnerved him how comfortable he was with the stranger, how he answered his questions with just a hint of hesitation that was soon washed away. Sakusa, although, didn't mind too much, their conversations didn't revolve around each other and even as they spoke for nearly two hours, he had yet to even learn the man's name. They spoke about their memories with Komori, his little habits that they noticed and the endearing jokes that they'd significantly miss. The thought of reminiscing with a man he practically had no clue about was humorous, and it almost made him laugh through his nose. 

Whether the blonde was attempting to purposefully make him feel better or not was a mystery, one he didn't mind having no answers to in fear for any. It was a matter of curiousity that made him think about the query, but in the end he has discarded it just as quickly as he would swat away a dirty hand attempting to reach out to him. No matter the circumstances of whatever lead this therapy session-like conversation to befall on his lap was none of his concern, he was thankful for it but to wonder what he did to deserve it was another thing entirely - something that would bring him dread if he ever thought about it too much, to read between the lines of something better left untouched.

"Anyway, I need to check up on Michinari." 

The blonde exclaimed, turning on his heel quickly after a farewell that held no apparent significance was exchanged between the pair. When he's gone and Sakusa is left to bask in the near silence, a quietness that was softly disturbed by the wailing from behind him. Opening up was never quite easy for him, and he wonders what made that blonde man who spoke too casually and with an accent any different than the others that tried to pry him open until their hands bruised and bled. 

He stayed there for awhile, the soft pink petals of the cherry blossoms nearby pile on the ground beneath him and a mere glimpse is all he spares it, the noise from the never-dying city of Tokyo dwindles away as another breeze passes, treading through his hair briefly as it carries it with its dance for a moment before its gone, and his locks return to their faintly tousled form. Pursing his lips beneath the mask he wore that day, he pushes the material just enough so he can take a deep breath, as if he's inhaling a fragment of what spring symbolises. 

And then, he all but forgets about that blonde male. It's nothing freeing, for that stranger that brought him something that embodied comfort on his cousin's funeral was nothing but a fleeting presence in his life. Sakusa accepts that barely anything in life is his control, he doesn't want to fight a losing battle against what's considered inevitable and perhaps when he was still younger, still with impossible dreams and far too hopeful that he's not sure if it was him, he'd attempt to reach for his ambitions but nothing is set, and he's comfortable where he is now. 

He'd go to his father's company after all of this, visit Komori's grave if he could spare the time, try to learn all that he needed to with nothing but flying colours, or at least something considered decent. And perhaps, if his mind wasn't too preoccupied with the looming feeling of others being disappointed in his inadequate performance then he'd think back to that bright yellow head of hair that made going through his cousin's funeral somewhat easier. 

When he gets back home, he's greeted with the silence that's draped over his family home nearly every hour of the day but he's grown used to it, even favours it most of the time. In all honesty, he hadn't been able to sleep at all with the lingering thought of the glass shattering underneath water, the desperation and pure and unfiltered panic that went over him at that moment. 

A few weeks passed since then and even so, sleep doesn't grace him. Sitting up, Sakusa began to think over the occurrences that transpired within the last few months of his life, and he wondered if he had done anything to receive it. Probably not, his common sense counters soon after, he had never really believed in something that somewhat resembled fate brought by the gods, he didn't believe in their existence for the sheer reason that there was nothing to prove it. Only belief held religion together, and belief was purely not enough to make him weep and spend a few minutes of his day for a prayer to nothing but silence. 

There's a fear that resided within him, for everything that was included within that day. It's an irrational fear, nothing special contributed to the death of his cousin excluding chance - or perhaps it was fate, he laughed through his nose at the thought that drifted into his head. The scenery was merely picturesque, and the fall almost aesthetic. 

They were passing through Ryogoku Bridge on a taxi, and a strange but upbeat songs with lyrics he couldn't particularly discern was playing. The exuberant male was having a conversation with the driver, something about any shops that he'd recommend that sold boba tea, Sakusa wasn't really paying any attention as he coped with the definitely dirty car seat. He had sprayed it with disinfectant beforehand but it didn't remove his discomfort at all. 

Then as the music was fading out and a new one was beginning to play, a car had come hurling towards them. For all the volleyball the germaphobe had played all his life, he couldn't even manage to move quickly enough to pull back the brunette. Adrenaline rushing alongside the fear that was being pumped into his system, the next thing he knows his ears are ringing from the impact and water was slowly filling the car. 

Sakusa didn't feel fear often, he felt disgust more so than any other emotion excluding the lack of one but at that moment, he had felt nothing but alarm as his mind commanded him to move to avoid death. There's a seeping warmth on his skin, trailing down his forehead but he doesn't find it in himself to check; he was particularly certain it was his blood anyway. Scrambling to unbuckle his seatbelt, his fingers easily undo the damned thing although it had been slightly jammed, much to his frustration.

He checkef to see Komori's pulse, hoping that he feels something beneath the pads of his fingers that are pressed against the boy's neck. Choking back a sob, Sakusa's jaw is tight and his teeth are gritted when he finds nothing there. Hurriedly, he had gone to check the driver's condition but to no avail. In the end, he had been the only one to survive - managing to exit the car while the water was leveling his neck and climbing on to the roof, waiting for someone to come and save him. 

He doesn't specifically remember when they arrived, but he knows the sheer desperation that went over his head at the thought of probability. He was aware it would be useless to try and attempt to save Komori then, the boy had ceased breathing even before he had realized the situation - he knew that but god, he just needed to stop the irking feeling that enveloped his chest. The guilt that went over him at his cousin's chance of survival if they had just switched seats beforehand, if the enthusiasm-filled male's side of the vehicle had just been the one to not be collided against. 

Komori deserved a quick death, although Sakusa had hoped it wouldn't happen so soon but it was a brisk departure, wherein a sun child was ripped away from his side. He's relieved, in a cruel way, that the brunette didn't die in a hospital bed after the accident; he had always told him how he didn't want his end to be anti-climactic. Although Sakusa always found it to be stupid. 

He had woken up in a hospital, with bandages on his head and his usually composed father shedding tears beside him. He felt as if the whole world was ready for his death then, as if a gravestone was already ready for him. Rising to his feet, he slips on his house slippers before exiting his bedroom and heading towards the kitchen, taking a brief glance over at the cupboards before deciding to brew a cup of tea. He had never really mastered how to make the subjectively perfect cup of coffee so he stuck to tea. 

His parents are most likely asleep, he thought to himself as he took a seat on the bar stool that accompanied the kitchen island, watching the steam escape the hot liquid, wafting into the air before vanishing. Gaze shifting, he looks over at the boxes neatly stacked at the corner of the living room, full of clothes and other items he may or may not need in his life from there on out. Highschool graduation had already passed, and he was on his way to his father's office, leaving behind his classmates from Itachiyama Highschool who, for the most part, were still planning to go through college, although he wasn't extremely acquainted with any of them. 

The obnoxiously coloured highschool sports jacket he wore during highschool volleyball would be nothing more but a nostalgic memory. He had decided to not pursue the sport as a career, he wasn't overly good at it to begin with and although he was part of the starting lineup even as a first-year, he had never grasped the spotlight, just another player wearing the uniform of a well-known institute. 

The years flew by quickly, more briskly than Sakusa anticipated to although it wasn't as if he was against with the pacing of life. To loath the flow of a river was foolish, just as it was antagonizing life for what it was and what it brought. Enlightenment by the gods or anything else, idiocity accompanied by rage would do nothing, and would continue to not becom anything. One couldn't build nothingness above nothing and expect something to appear. 

His father had planned to take him under his wing, train him on how the life of an investment banker went out and teach him enough to an extent where Sakusa could be trusted in inheriting the company. The former-volleyball player and his father had agreed on skipping out college as he would only be learning about things he wouldn't use for the most part. Although his mother was hesitant to accept the plan at first, she had ultimately given him her permission when he had asked for it, which he was generally thankful for as going against his partners was never something he preferred.

Life had become hectic from there on out, he was drinking more coffee than he was tea and the bags under his eyes were painfully dark and obvious from the first few months of his internship. Home-made meals were almost always just when he could leeway a few hours into his schedule to visit his mother alongside his father, it was a rough start where he was left sleep-deprived for the majority of the time but he grew somewhat adjusted to it. 

He had moved into an apartment that was nearer to the company by the time a year and six months had passed for convenience. His father, although still generally healthy, had began to come by less and less as the months passed by. Ultimately, he didn't mind his absence as Sakusa had come to terms already that it would happen whether he liked it or not, and he didn't want to be any more of a bother to the man. They had discussed this already, even before he graduated highschool, that as soon as he became someone that could be trusted in terms of managing the company then his father would retire. Although that time had yet to fully come just yet. 

It wasn't anything particularly surprising, he had been born when they were in their mid-30's or so, he wasn't the child of a teenage couple. He thought it was only fitting, to take over the company so his parents could have some rest in their retirement although that wasn't the only reason he was doing this so willingly. The pay wasn't meager as well, so he most definitely appreciated that aspect of his job, but he felt as if the work he had to complete was equal to the amount of money he got. 

Three years had passed almost like a blizzard, and he had almost become the CEO of his father's company, busy and preoccupied most of the time but it wasn't so bad. Most of his classmates were probably still in university, though he did get to meet some by chance whenever he was on certain business trips to different cities or prefectures. People from other schools as well, names he didn't particularly remember but faces that had shown up from time to time during his highschool days. Particularly the ones he played volleyball against either during Interhigh or practice matches. 

He would come visit Komori's grave every March, when the cherry blossoms were in full display with those same soft petals as when he saw on his cousin's funeral. He would sometimes reminisce on that generally long conversation he had with that blonde stranger, the nostalgia slamming against his face and he'd often laugh under his breath at how bright and unnatural the hue of his yellow locks were. Whenever he came, he would always make sure to clean his cousin's grave himself, always bringing a few of his favourite cleaning supplies. 

He'd never talk though, always just basking in the glory of the dead and the silence, which Sakusa thought wasn't so bad. It was peaceful, not the kind of tranquility where all you could hear were the chirps of the birds and the swaying of the grass. It was the peace that you felt whenever you'd come back home and plop against the mattress after a hard day at work, a temporary relief that one knew would go away soon enough. But something you'd always be yearning for as if a long lost lover. 

The ebony-haired individual's memory on how he was reunited with that buzzing bee is somewhat hazy, he can't remember most of the details on how it went. He has a vague recollection going into his usual cafe wearing a coat as it was still somewhat cold in autumm. Sakusa didn't really have much time in his hands to learn what coffee was the best in terms of his preference so he opted to let someone make it for him, as did most others. There was a café his deceased cousin had dragged him to while they were still first-years in highschool alongside a few classmates he had already forgotten about, a somewhat popular coffee shop that also sold a few pastries and sweets. 

Sakusa wasn't a huge fan of coffee, and did opt for tea the few times he went there before graduating highschool. As his time was relatively limited, daily schedules packed and his days starting at the early morning, he had began to rely on caffeine more and more as the days passed. It wasn't something he was specifically fond of at first, the bitter and lingering aftertaste wasn't anything that pleased his tasting buds but it had grown on him as time flew by. 

He began to care less and less about how it tasted, it took over the role as a fuel source whenever he didn't have enough time for sleep due to the tasks he needed to finish. Although despite all the changes, Sakusa had grown almost close to no new tolerance to crowds. His impeccable hygiene maintenance remained all the same, nearly untouched in its perfection as if it could never be affected by any outside force; not that he minded his indifference to dirt. The cafe's popularity had stagnated as months became years, only regular patrons seemed to come by there. 

Busy workers such as him barely had any time to spare, squeezing in anything into their free time in-between the unregulated rests they received. Despite Sakusa being quite high-ranked in the company, expected to take over as CEO by being the current one's only son, he still had to move around almost all the time, making phone calls with customers and negotiating, pads of his fingers making contact with the keyboard for god knows how much in a single day, the sound of a pen scratching against paper a far too familiar sound - but he would admit that his peers who would soon work for him were far more occupied than he was. 

Given how busy he was most of the day, a greater choice would be to go to more well-known brands such as Starbucks and the such. Their quick response to the orders was what would initially attract customers, knowing that being tardy would equal another threat of being fired they needed to face as soon as they arrived at their office. But Sakusa never did well among crowds, shoving them was an option that was available but the man had some dignity left inside him and he wasn't quite prepared to be a public menace just yet. 

Perhaps its the lingering thought of Komori that had dragged him there, or maybe it truly was his inability to walk among a large quantity of people? He had thought about it before, kept weighing it in his mind but he had grown tired of it as soon as he began the thought process, something that had no answer; or even if it did have one, it wouldn't benefit anyone much less him. He had decided to leave that afterthought alone with that final conclusion, though he found himself going back again even if he attempted to guide himself away from those unyielding thoughts. 

Now, he sat down on his usual seat, a table close to the door as he found it most convenient. There weren't many people to compete over anyway, so he didn't need to arrive in a specific time to not get into a bothersome line that was most definitely existent in other places. The owner there was a kind-hearted man in his mid-30's if Sakusa had to guess, he never truly tried to ask as it would be considered rude for him to inquire anything beyond their seller-buyer relationship. Although he didn't have any use of the information, the man had shared how he had gotten the cafe, he had dropped out of highschool by the time he was a second-year and began to work part-time in the place, mostly at night. After the former owner had decided to retire, it had been given to him out of sheer chance but the store's popularity had already plummeted even before the previous owner decided to settle down, it was most probably the reason he had decided to stop anyway. 

The scent of the shop wasn't unusual to him by now, the faint but most definitely existent citrus aroma that lingered, mixed in with the steam of the coffee that they prepared. Then there was the mainly menthol-centered cologne that both Sakusa and the old man (another patron) who was often there wore, then the soft traces of something being baked at the back. The combination wasn't anything intense, more so strongly unpleasant at first (Sakusa guessed it was his and the other man's perfume that had disrupted the flow of the, otherwise, perfectly fine synergy between the scents). 

Door being pushed open, the bell rang and the sound resounded within the small area that the store covered. The familiar call of the staff was traded as a response, the nearly engrained "welcome!" often said with a smile, it had become an instinct to hear it whenever one would enter a restaurant or cafe, it would be somewhat strange to not hear it, in a sense. Sakusa took a quick peek at who the new presence is, but quickly returned his gaze to the newspaper between his fingers in disinterest after glancing at the stranger. 

Given how the individual's locks were dyed an unruly bright blonde, Sakusa had a quick guess that the man (or rather the boy) was a highschooler. He looked somewhat young, most probably transitioning between his second year to his third. Although Japan was not at all poverty-stricken, it was most definitely luck-luster in terms of happiness. He still had that seemingly uncrushable hope inside his eyes, he had never seen that in an adult before. 

Not in his teachers, not in the people around him, not even in his own father. 

"Yo, Enji!"

He called out cooly, leaning over the counter before engaging in a conversation with the owner, mostly light-hearted in terms of Sakusa's overall judgement of it from where he sat although he could hear the somewhat condescending comments the blonde boy would sneak in once in awhile. For someone still in highschool, he certainly was casual and seemingly rude to people who were older than him, considering that the owner (Enji, as far as what the boy had called him a few moments ago) was a decade or more older than he was. Even going as far as to refer to the owner by his first name. 

As soon as Sakusa got his coffee, he had exited the cafe and walked towards his car, begining his day just like any other day. His father had began going to the company more and more as the weeks passed by, Sakusa weighed out the probabilities as of why and decided to think that it was to assess how far he still was in being able to take the spot as CEO, amongst other things. 

The next day, and the next, and even the next - that highschooler had been there in the cafe, even attempting to strike up a conversation with him by asking if he liked his coffee with sugar or not, to which he responded to briefly. The blonde wore a lazy smile most of the time, and somehow the boy's eyes were shaped in a way that made him look like he was doing everything without the thought of going all out, it was somewhat irritating to Sakusa who had to work hard in having to adjust to the expectations that dragged him down. 

But just like any other day, Sakusa had proceeded to ignore the childish foolishness that the boy had, it wasn't exactly his job to set the individual into shape; society would do its job and bend him into shape. If not that then he'd be thrown out of the calculation, life was cruel (surely, it was) but the simplicity made it eerily easy to understand. In a way, it always had a way to make you blame yourself in the end, and if not you then it would the person nearest to you.

"Hey, Enji, what's that guy's name?" 

The blonde leaned against the wall, taking a quick glance at the retreating male for the last time within the withering clock of day. His accent was prominent even then, his use of slang exclusive to the Kansai region making it apparent that he wasn't from this area of Japan at all, not that he ultimately cared. Others were fine with his accent, the thought that it made conversing with him much more difficult never really came to their minds as they had adjusted perfectly to him although some people who chose to not talk to him because of their differences did exist, he could barely care. 

Without even barely trying, Miya could actually care less about what they thought of who was allowed to talk to them or not. Most of them were pretentious, carrying around the mindset that they ruled above anyone that lived within Tokyo, and even beyond that. It was a useless ideology, to become top in the world; that throne to stand on top of humanity simply didn't exist for the pure fact that humans functioned in a more complex manner than any other studied being in the earth. The difficulty that people were required to face to become something was brought forth by the complexity that the being known as man always carried around. Its own advancements becoming the hindering point between talent and the lack of one. 

"What was it again... Hey, Kaji, what was that guy's name again? It started with a Fu, I think-" 

Enji began to to trail, words more like jumbled murmurs than anything but the blonde didn't really find it bothersome, if anything then it was amusing. If he had to pick a word then entertaining would be it. Kaji, the boy who served as the sole staff in the café, glanced at his boss with an expression that resembled annoyance for his cluelessness. Atsumu often teased him for the unchanging facade he wore to cover up his anger, poking fun at the boy until he was able to force the male into a rage-infused feat. 

"You mean, Sakusa?" 

Something that faintly resembled irritation laced Kaji's voice, although none of the other individuals really payed it any mind. It was a detail they turned a blind eye to, perhaps considered inevitable. At this point, the slight rudeness and cold-nature that was displayed most of the time was simply Kaji, nothing more and nothing less. Atsumu's expression morphed, from baseless neutrality to a surprised gape as his lips parted to speak, eyes blown wide at the realization, dawning upon him like sunlight. 

"Oh, his name is like a combination of Sakusa and Sakura's names! From Naruto! I loved that show!" 

With an eye roll and a sigh that could somewhat pass as a breathless chortle, Enji shrugged his shoulder at th childish exclamation before he continued to put into the displays the remaining pastries. Grinning sluggishly, he grabs his coffee and says his goodbyes to the staff before pushing the door open with his elbow, resulting in the familiar ring of the bell, metal clashing against metal. 

"I don't understand why you're friends with a guy like that, boss. He's a bit rude? And he likes anime, isn't he a bit childish.."

Enji takes a glance at the college graduate, and soon a carefree laugh leaves the male. It doesn't flow with the wind, isn't beautiful whatsoever but Kaji finds it in himself to smile. He doesn't understand what was humorous about whatever he said, but for a moment, he found joy at the happiness of his boss, whatever may have caused it is soon brushed away. 

A few more days had passed since then, and Sakusa still often saw the blonde at the cafe, hanging about and making conversations with the other customers. He doesn't take it any mind as usual, perhaps he humors the boy for a few times with a response that isn't just "yes" or "no" but otherwise, he's relatively detached from the occurrences of his surroundings, most of the time his focus was on the news article he read on his phone or he was listening to a podcast that he deemed to be enthralling, or at least interesting. 

And now, he's back at his starting point - Komori's grave. Once again, he brought his cleaning materials to get rid of any dirt or stain that he can still erase. As he's walking up the steps, he thinks about his inability to let go. Sakusa isn't stupid, he isn't hopeful that his cousin would simply appear before him as an apparition and tell him to finally release all his guilts, and then he'd be set free. He doesn't expect for anything supernatural, or fantasy-like to occur but there's something that manages to pull him towards the land of the deceased. A borderland he passed quite often. 

He reckons that it's the fact that he doesn't think he deserves the life that's been given to him, it isn't seldom when his thoughts begin to drift towards a possibility where Komori was the one who escaped alive. What would he do with his life? He's suffocated with the thought of the possibilities that are never to be probable but once he reaches the last of the steps, he stands there with a combination of bewilderment and confusion. The highschool student from the café is present, hands tucked inside the pockets of his pants and he's in front of Komori's gravestone wearing s nostalgic smile. 

For what, Sakusa doesn't quite process it right away. 

He takes another step and the dried leaves beneath his shoes crack, attracting the attention of the blonde. The boy's head is turned towards him, the seemingly never-dissapearing lazy smile he always wore still existent, the ebony-haired male begins to wonder if the expression had been carved into his skin, as if something he couldn't let go of even if he forced himself to let go. 

"Oh, hey." 

Lips pulled into a grin, his happiness and his words strike nothing into the individual's chest but he doesn't dwell in the nonexistence too much, if not then not at all. Instead, he acts and takes a few more steps into his cousin's grave and in return, the highschooler takes a few steps back. (Which, although he wouldn't admit it, Sakusa most definitely appreciated) 

"I suggest you head back to your highschool. There's little to no time till lunch time ends." 

Brown orbs widen for a moment, and for a moment the one who wears a mask between the two thinks it's out of panic but the laugh that the exuberant male releases is enough to make Sakusa erase the thought out of his head. Although he isn't too surprised, with how bright his hair dye was, it wasn't too seriously mind-boggling to assume that he was a delinquent. Although any sight of tattoos or piercings were out of sight, the stoic-natured individual's mind had been set on that supposition. 

"I've already graduated! Did you really think I was still a student?" 

His words are said fairly loudly and he says it through heaps of laughter, which slightly irked Sakusa but he didn't find it in himself to really bring his petty frustration up. The pieces of his mind begin to turn, processing the information quickly before he reaches a conclusion - he doesn't try to deny the nature of the world, whatever the world's nature may be and although he's fairly bewildered by the new information that the blonde he had quite so often saw wasn't actually a teenager, he doesn't try to fight against the possibility of a lie. 

If, perhaps, he was tricked into believing false information then maybe that was merely his own misfortune. 

"Are you done with your visitation?" 

He doesn't hesitate to ask, and although he knows it may sound a tad bit rude he didn't bother to soften his tone, or perhaps he was unable to - Sakusa had never found a reason to adjust for anybody, his behaviours were his own and they had remained to be his, no one had spoken to him about it, out of fear or out of the fact that there was no need to, was something he wasn't too certain of. The male glanced at his phone to check the time, eyes staying on the screen for a few more seconds before he turned it off and nodded his head. 

"Yep, I need to get going anyway. See you soon, Sakusa-chan~"

The blonde is quick to tap the man's back, it's light but it makes the male want to be able to reach his back so he could wipe off whatever dirt that specific touch had given his clothes, and in extension him. He could hear the male's steps, they were heavy against the cement stairs but he was focused, far too focused, on the physical contact given to him by the blonde on his back - maybe it was the fact he hadn't exactly expected it that made him pay more attention to the most likely germ-induced touch.

Although once he was done fretting over the worrisome subject, his eyebrows were knitted as he began to process the words of the other individual who was most probably gone by then. Lips parted slightly as he whispered the calling in a confusion-induced tone, under his breath and whispy as if his mind couldn't wrap the thought around being called such a name. 

"Sakusa... Chan..?" 

The casualness of the other isn't welcomed, although certainly not a subject for hatred. If the germaphobe had to guess what had exactly made him remember such a meager detail, it would most probably be the fact of unfamiliarity he felt towards being addressed so freely. For three years, he had been accustomed to being treated with utmost respect in his father's company and the usual reserved nature of Japanese citizens assured that anything below the standard of politeness would be treated as an estrangement. 

Even as a student, his closed-off nature had basically assured him a life of introvertedness, not that he would say he minded it too much. Pursing his lips lightly for a moment, he remembered being forced to tag along with his cousin's acquaintances whenever there was a group project and the teacher didn't make the decision for the groups. Komori knew more than anyone else of his persistence to controlled isolation, so he tried to make him be surrounded by as much people most of the time, as long as Sakusa didn't verbally express discomfort that went beyond the thought of communication. 

In other words - the man was a loner, through and through, the decision had been made consciously and he continued to live his life willingly despite other's unstated protests. 

After cleaning his deceased cousin's grave, brush swiping across the cement gently and washing it with water from the pump nearby, he had left to go back to work. Once he enters his car, he takes note to buy a new freshener and he internally hoped the usual brand he preferred didn't run out whenever he found the time to head to the store he frequented the most. Pulling up his mask that had began to slip, he turns the car engine after a few seconds of wait and then begins the journey towards the occupied central. 

Japan's traffic isn't odd by any means, its absence would be even more so as most residents of the main cities had to adjust to the occupied roads. Although, Sakusa doesn't (or perhaps, he can't) find it in himself to complain much about it. Not many drivers in the East Asian country took out their built-up frustration out on other drivers with loud horns and even louder shouting, that behaviour he had often seen in movies he decided to watch out of sheer boredom and as to not waste his subscription of Netflix that his father paid for. 

Most were movies from the West, and he wondered from time to time how that specific act of rudeness had become something that could be considered normal. But he reckons things worked differently in that part of the world, expressiveness wasn't shamed upon and the limit to one's character wasn't a shaped cubicle in an office alongside a few others. 

"I'm really sorry for the trouble. Can I treat you for lunch as compensation? No, no, please, it'd take guilt of my chest. Alright, then I'll see you next week. Yes, I'll make my driver pick you up so you don't have to worry. Thank you again." 

Such words had left his father's lips when the ebony-haired individual had went up to the man's office to send over a few paperwork that needed to be done, not exactly a job Sakusa couldn't handle but they were specifically addressed to be handed over to his father as he still was considered the CEO of the company, no matter his dangerously close and looming retirement right around the turn. Blinking curiously, he raised both his brows as a silent nudge for the male to elaborate more for him. Merely fill in the blank spaces his head couldn't handle in itself due to the lack of information. If it wasn't anything he needed to concern himself with then his father would state so without hesitation but testing the waters wasn't something Sakusa was extremely against, he did it often if the risks didn't cost him. 

"Ah, that was my doctor." 

Began the aged man, walking over to his much taller son and in return the aforementioned individual handed over the paperwork without a moment's notice. Eyeing the considerable amount of work that had to be done, his father took a hold of it before placing it neatly on his desk, speaking about the identity of his doctor which wasn't something Sakusa was unfamiliar with. He'd talk about the architect and the engineer of any of his new buildings for sister companies, and he'd speak about obnoxious people he met at get-together's even when his son was still a boy who couldn't differentiate the identities of various items. 

"He's particularly well-known in the medical field." 

His father started, and his thoughts drift towards a wonder on how much research the man made over his doctor, not that Sakusa would ever stop the individual from doing so. It was always a strange habit he had, digging into subjects that weren't the most beneficial but he reckons he finds some semblance of joy in it, and who was the soon-to-be heir of the company to stop the current CEO? 

He hums out in distant interest, he didn't have a supremely high interest in whatever circulated within the medical field given he wasn't a doctor himself nor was anyone in his life that he would deem he was close to. He only ventured into that aspect of subjects whenever he needed to consult his doctor about a strange pain he felt, and even then it wasn't anything serious. Names of diseases were a whirlwind, another cause of a headache he didn't particularly need or want. 

"Some people call the man a prodigy and perhaps he is. He's about your age, around 20 or 21?" 

To this, he raises a single brow at in a combination of delighted surprise and impressed. Most aspiring doctors would have to sacrifice their 20s to, many had or would have to come to terms to that necessity, the only thing that kept them going would be the thought of the payment which would be drained with the looming feeling of their college debt eating away at their salary as it continued to rise with time in interest. An abundant of well-paying careers would take time, a decade or so and Sakusa was thankful enough that he didn't have to endure that due to his father's influence. He wasn't ignorant of the blessings he was born with, most definitely he was grateful for it, some in the world didn't get to have comfort served to them without having to try. 

"Oh? Is that so?" 

He speaks up, something that resembled genuine interest piling inside his stomach as it mixed in with his blood and flowed through his body like dying sparks that blazed in self-destructive glory. Seemingly remembering something, his father released a breathy laugh to which the male is somewhat confused about. Sensing the lack of an explanation to what he found humourous about whatever he thought about, the aged man began to explain the origin of his brief joy. 

"I haven't met him personally, our few interactions have been limited to phone calls. I've done some research on him and asked around about him and they say his hair is colored a bright yellow!" 

His father shrugs his shoulders, taking a seat on his office chair before leaning into the stark leather material, actions swift and natural as he skimmed over the paperwork he needed to finish. Sakusa's thoughts drift to the strange blonde man who he mistakenly presumed to be a highschool student at the mention of the hair colour blonde but he doesn't assume anything, his thoughts not even thinking about the possibility that the two were related, much less the same person. 

"He's certainly the first. Who knows, mayhaps he'll start a new trend for doctors all around Japan?" 

The usually stoic male humors, and although the tone he used was dry and had no hints of soft joking, his father catched on quickly and released a chortle, louder than the average. Perhaps it was the fact that it came from such a mild-natured and serious person that made it so hilarious but either way, he's somewhat glad he could indulge in a light-hearted conversation with the other. After all, when he finally becomes CEO and is able to release his parents from the burden of having to look after such a large and financially influencaial company, they had plans on moving to Hokkaido prefecture to escape the stress that Tokyo brought in its wake, he wouldn't be able to meet with them for long periods of time. 

"If so, god help us. We wouldn't be able to differentiate potential yankii or bosozoku members from doctors!" 

The joke isn't the most well-crafted but it manages to make Sakusa ease his shoulders, a small and soft laugh leaving his lips, almost as if it was a whisper under his breath. Soon, he leaves his father's office and walks back to his own in silence as the familiar echoe of the others worker's actions and voices reach his ears although they were all meshed together, voices unorganized and the like. 

The next week, the memory of the prodigy doctor that his father had mentioned and talked about had been completely washed away from the individual's line of thought, so much so that his father coming down to the ground floor during the afternoon while Sakusa was about to leave for his lunch break was somewhat unexpected. His father almost always had home-made lunches prepared by his mother, it had been that way ever since the dark-haired male was a child. The only time it didn't occur was when he had a business meeting at a restaurant, or some such, and the younger one of the two hadn't heard of any company contacting them to have a conversation about whatever their concern was, or plans were. 

"Are you headed somewhere, dad?" 

He was about to sign off for the meantime, and he apologized to the woman at the front as he excused himself although she didn't seem to mind, only nodding with a, most definitely, practiced smile. 

His father turned and took a glance at him before nodding, bright grin displayed on his face. Sakusa often wondered how he could be the son of such cheerful individuals, their happy disposition not rubbing off on him even in the slightest; although he supposed that they didn't seem to mind and he didn't ultimately care. They got along relatively well, were a close family compared to others, and weren't distant if any parties weren't busy with a task. As long as they didn't display any imminent hints of disapproval for each other, he was content. 

"That doctor that I talked to you about is arriving today. I made my driver pick him up but I think greeting him personally would be a better choice." 

As he explains, the taller of the two nodded his head in an understanding manner before asking permission from his father if it would be alright to wait alongside him. After all, whatever sickness threatened to enter his parent's life would be something he wanted to know if beforehand, even it was just a chance. His father was an only child and his mother had one sibling, and the only cousin he was actually acquainted with was Komori and now that he had been taken away from him, Sakusa felt more protective over his family even if he didn't notice, or even if he did, he didn't acknowledge the change in his behaviour at all. 

There's a certain melancholy to it, he had never wished to see his parents grow old as a child as he thought it to be a sign that they would leave him soon, a physical embodiment of their looming departure, as if aging was a train ticket to the afterlife if such a thing existed. 

He remembered hearing a song when he was younger, he didn't quite remember who the singer was and it often slipped from his mind as it was (inevitably) an unimportant detail to the larger picture of the path of his life but the lyrics had struck to him more than he ever wished for it to. "I always want to stay young, I'm never going to die" or something along those lines, and at first he had thought it to be stupid. To deny the inevitability of nature was a fool's move, only idiots blinded by their own stupidity, too dumb to realize that the "intelligence" they saw within themselves was nothing more but a delusion. 

Yet as he thought about it more, it had began to make him fear for thr possibility of having to stand in a crowd while either or both of his parents were lowered to the ground in a wooden cascet. Whenever someone had asked him what was the one thing he wanted to have as a child, it would've been the blessing of undying. Although, as he grew up, movie shows and other forms of media had began to show him that immortality was more of a curse than a blessing, to watch everyone around oneself slowly cripple out of existence like dried-out crops in a barren land. 

He believed then, that as one grew, their dreams decreased, in a way. It wasn't inherently bad, cruel? Perhaps so but it was only fitting to teach the young and innocent that their unrealistic hopes to change the world were nothing more but ideas for a future generation that would never arrive. 

"He's here."

His father said in an enthusiastic manner as his eyes glazed over the screen of his phone to look over a message that Sakusa can only assume is an alert that the doctor had arrive. It wouldn't be a lie to say that he was somewhat hoping to be impressed by this prodigy, after all, his father had never mentioned any important ties that the stranger had to any influencial identify or someone who could have benefited his image as a young and successful practitioner in the medical field. 

But he was bemused, in a way, because it wasn't as if being a doctor was a career to be scoffed at. It was one of the most high-paying careers in the world and if one asked a class of somewhat aware and knowledgeable children then the curly-haired individual would mostly bet that anywhere between half of the population within that class, or even more so, would choose to be a doctor. 

Many Asian children wanted to be either of three professions; a doctor, an engineer, or a lawyer. Perhaps it was mostly the constant and active influence of the adults around them (to be more specific, their parents) who glorified such jobs to a point where it seemed to be the solution to all of their problems if they managed to reach that goal. Being a doctor was respectable, one's name was even attached to the title of "sensei" which, although, had become used as a form of mockery over the years, was still somewhat utilized to show extreme respect. 

The doctor's steps aren't distinguishable between the many steps of the workers of the company. Many were familiar of the face of the CEO but he was a somewhat humble man and it had basically been am implemented rule to not treat him something alike to a god, although respect would most certainly not be rejected. 

When he finally entered, the tell-tale bright blonde hair as the rumors had gone by was seen, and Sakusa could almost feel his shoulders drop and his mouth become dry at the sight before him. Brisk strides and practiced actions, he stood tall with confidence oozing out of him. He attracted a majority of the people's gaze who were at the ground floor from how he carried himself, it wasn't in a manner where one would call him necessarily flamboyant but definitely not bashful. 

If Sakusa wanted to be honest to himself, he carried the whole room for a mere second. The lazy smile plastered on his face was familiar, and the stoic-natured individual could feel himself become exasperated at the realization of who this prodigy was. Not an entirely new sight, but the first time he's ever seen the man wear a suit, most definitely. He couldn't even fathom the sight, although it was right before, a person he thought to be a highschool student with how he went about so freely was considered to be an unbridled talent in the medical field, so much so that Sakusa's own father had actually done extensive research on him. (something the aforementioned male only briefly talked about as he was very much so curios of his new personal doctor, and in extension the whole Sakusa household)

"Oh! Sakusa-chan! It's nice to see you again!" 

He was getting slightly tired of seeing blonde hair, if he were to be honest to himself. Repressing a fatigue-induced groan from the pits of his stomach, he nodded as an acknowledgement to the greeting. Although he and his father shared the same family name, naturally, he was certain that the overly kind manner of his call wasn't addressed to the current CEO, but to him instead. 

"Are you acquainted with each other?" 

The older male asked and it was almost painful to nod, even in the slightest to confirm that yes, he somewhat knew of the infamous doctor but without the information of his career. Same old half-hearted beam made its way to the rather casual and rather strange fellow's face. 

"Yeah, we keep meeting."

**Author's Note:**

> Notes ; 
> 
> \- I planned to make this a one-part story but writing something along the words of 100,000 words straight away is painful and unmotivating so I've decided to split it up. I hope the chapters aren't too short, or aren't too lengthy for anyone's liking.


End file.
